ABC
by leuska
Summary: She can't help but let out a laugh, a surprised and breathless sound, at seeing him like this. No idea what he's doing, but still cute. When his head whips around to look at her, his shocked blues meet her green ones and she can feel a soft smile settle over her face as the tension of the day finally starts to slowly seep out of her bones. Oh yeah, she's home. Definitely home.
1. A

_Simply and plainly:_

_for__** Chezchuckles (Writingwell)**_

_Because she likes baby fics, hugs and people. And because her writing, she herself – the wonderful, generous human being she is – inspires me to read and write. Thank you._

* * *

**Story: ABC**

**{A}**

_(march 2016)_

* * *

The key rattles in the lock before she pushes the door open. It's silent on its hinges, the scrape of her dragging feet and dull clang of her heels the only sounds penetrating the stillness.

The loft is lit but silent, and she breathes out a heavy sigh, kicking the door shut behind her before she leans against the red wood. She closes her eyes, basking in the momentary silence, and takes a few steadying breaths.

The day had been brutal. Double homicide. Two kids not even in their twenties shot to death for the sum of exactly thirty two dollars they had in their pockets and their cell phones that weren't worth much more.

Sometimes, Kate just doesn't understand the world anymore: kids killing kids on the streets over a couple of dollars, girls being raped and left to bleed to death in dirty alleyways, jealous husbands murdering their spouses or their lovers in cold blood.

She takes another steadying breath, finally steps out of her heels and kicks them to the side to be dealt with later. Her feet are killing her. She's been running on these two days in a row, had barely time to stop by at home to grab a couple of hours of sleep before she had to leave for the precinct again in the morning.

They managed to wrap the case later in the afternoon, but it's been a long and dark day, and she's bone-deep tired and exhausted. It's late and she just wants to take a shower, crawl in bed and sleep it off, all of it, the gruesome and the incomprehensible and the tragic. It's been a long time since she had to tell a pair of parents, two sets of them, that their child would never come home again.

She drops her keys into the bowl sitting on the side table near the door, locks her jaw tightly against the feeling of utter helplessness when she remembers one of the mothers collapsing into a little sobbing heap, unable to be consoled by the shell-shocked grieving father.

But it's over now. She's home, she is home with _her_ family now, and she needs to focus on that. Not the two broken ones she had to leave behind.

At least she got them justice. And maybe that's not something they are yet able to appreciate, may not ever really come to appreciate, but she knows it's more than she ever got for herself. Knows that somehow it counts to know that the people responsible are not running around the streets looking for their next victim anymore.

She lets her bag drop. It slides down her shoulder until it hits the floor with a heavy thud as she walks further into the apartment, pulling off her coat. She throws the light garment over the back of the couch, stretches her aching fingers and toes as she goes, her knuckles popping loudly. She yawns, rubs her eyes tiredly, listening to the silence.

Only now does she realize how really quiet the loft's been ever since she came home, how peaceful.

Huh.

No scurrying feet running to greet her, no warm smile or cheery call from the kitchen, no little body smeared with jelly throwing itself at her in a blur.

That's…unusual.

She looks around, her eyes searching for her two boys now, but there's no sight of either one of them. They must be home though, with the whole place being lit up like a Christmas tree.

She lets her eyes wander as she stands in the middle of the sitting room, her gaze sweeping the empty kitchen and lonely stairwell. The baby gate is shut closed, which means they must be downstairs, so that leaves only his study and their bedroom.

There are toys scattered everywhere but not as much as usual; the place is clean and rather tidy.

Intrigued, Kate walks towards the study and pushes the half-open door fully open but there's no one there so she proceeds straight into the bedroom.

And there, finally, she finds her husband, down on all fours, his cute bum staring right back up at her as he peers under the bed with his back to her, fiercely looking for something.

"Where the hell…" he murmurs. "Not funny anymore, okay? So come out, will ya?"

She can't help but let out a laugh, a surprised and breathless sound, at seeing him like this. No idea what he's doing, but still cute. When his head whips around to look at her, his shocked blues meet her green ones and she can feel a soft smile settle over her face as the tension of the day finally starts to slowly seep out of her bones.

Oh yeah, she's home. Definitely home.

"Castle, what are you doing down there?" she asks incredulous, her hands coming to her hips.

He jumps like a spring released, lands right in front of her, ramrod straight, a somewhat sheepish look on his face.

"He-ey, honey!" he sings-songs, his voice high-pitched and somewhat choked. "You're home early!"

"It's eight in the evening, Castle. I wouldn't call that early," she shoots back, her own eyes narrowing as his grow unusually wide.

"What? Already eight?" He looks genuinely puzzled.

"Yeah. I tried to call you like…half an hour ago, but you weren't picking up."

"Oh, right. My phone," he says frowning, his look going vacant for a moment as he distractedly looks around. "Must have left it in the kitchen. Sorry about that."

"No, never mind, it's okay," she replies, waving it away, taking a step closer to him and resting her hand on his arm, her thumb coming to brush the inside of his elbow.

"So," she says in a quieter, breathier voice, closing the gap between them as she naturally gravitates toward his heat. "I guess you're not crawling around on the floor for no reason," she says, a soft smile breaking across her face.

She's so close now she can see every freckle on his skin, the small droplets of sweat gathering on his forehead. Seeing the telltale sign of his Adam's apple bobbing nervously, she throws him a triumphant, knowing smile.

"Spill it out Castle. What did you do this time?"

He doesn't reply, merely continues to gaze at her, startled and slightly dazed, the smokiness of his look sending a lick of fire straight down her spine.

"Chipmunk already in bed?" she asks huskily, drawing ever closer, her hands coming to caress his sides as she presses into him, the solid and warm bulk of him waking every nerve ending in her tired body.

"Chipmunk?" he asks dumbly, still staring at her as if her mere proximity has the power to burn half his IQ away just like that and she has to laugh again, a free and happy sound.

"Yeah, the chipmunk. The monkey. Peanut. Crazy-little man, you can pick whatever you want. I mean our _son_, Castle," she clarifies, trying to sound annoyed as she rolls her eyes at him tiredly, but the smile still dances over her lips, betraying how cheery she really is just by being home with them again.

_Damn. _

She used to be better at this. Sterner, more frightening. Used to keep him on his toes with a single look.

Still, her words seem to do the trick, for a light comes on somewhere behind the aroused fog of his eyes and he blinks, then blinks some more, his eyes growing wide with awareness.

"Oh crap, right. The monkey!" he curses, and she watches in surprise as he abruptly disentangles from her, turns sharply away and walks over to the closet, yanking the door open to peer into it.

"Damn it, not here either," he mutters under his breath before he walks to look behind the curtains.

She continues to observe him for a moment, incredulous and slightly mesmerized before she finally asks the obvious question, "Castle, will you finally tell me _what _youare looking for?"

He doesn't stop, merely throws her a pointed look over his shoulder before resuming her actions.

It takes her a moment, because yes, it's been a long and exhausting day, but then it finally starts to click together and oh God, he didn't, did he?

"Castle!" she calls sharply, waits for him to turn his head towards her at the pointedness of her tone. "Are you…_oh my God_, are you seriously trying to tell me you are looking for our son?!"

He nods grimly before opening the bottom drawer on a chest at the back wall, gazing into it.

Like he could possibly find their kid inside. And what the hell, how the hell…how did this even happen?

"Richard Alexander Castle," she says in a slow, dangerously low voice as she crosses the room to come stand right in front of him. She grabs him by the front of his shirt, her fists in two tight balls against his chest, her eyes murderous.

"Did you lose _my_ _son_?"

The words coming out of her mouth sound ridiculous, but even as she says them, she knows they must be true, because he gives her that guilty and even somewhat frightened look that tells her he already knows he's in big trouble.

She is momentarily left speechless, because really, what can you say to something like that, right? But then he's talking again, quickly, words tripping over each other on their rush exit of his mouth as he tries to explain and everything in her feels like slapping him because seriously? How old is he?!

"No, of course not! I didn't _lose_ him," he emphasizes, tries to push a slightly offended note into his tone but oh boy, she's gonna kill him. "No... that's not at all true…no. He's just…somewhere. Hiding."

"Hiding?" she repeats, incredulous.

"See," he starts nervously, "we are kinda playing hide and seek. And he's…well, turns out he's better at it than I originally expected."

"You are playing hide and seek," she slowly repeats, her voice deep and deadly.

"Uhm, yeah," he stutters. His voice is already two octaves higher that usual and he's unconsciously taking measured steps away from her and he should, oh he should, because give her a minute and she'll seriously maim him.

"Castle, you are playing hide and seek with a _14-month-old_? Are you crazy?" There's nothing calm about her voice anymore. "In a loft that's three times as big as your regular neighborhood apartment?" She takes a few steps forward, stalking him now.

"It was _his_ idea," Castle defends, taking another step further away until his back hits the wall, no escape left.

"Uh-huh." She's standing right in front of him, so much shorter than him without her power heels but God, so deadly that he immediately spills his guts.

"We were bored. I gave him two minutes and then went looking for him. The little lizard disappeared like air. I swear, puff, he was gone." She gives him an incredulous look so he hastens to proceed, "Don't worry though, he must be somewhere around here. And everything's safe, I made sure of that, I just have yet to…to find him," he comes to a stuttering end.

"Uh-huh," she simply repeats, yet there's nothing simple about the look she is currently giving him. "And just how long have you been _looking_?" she hisses, vitriol dropping from her ever word.

"Um…" he checks his watch, "…about sixteen minutes and 24 seconds."

"You gotta be joking!" she explodes then, slapping his chest, hard.

"No, don't worry. It's perfectly safe, I swear!"

She gives him a glare, watches him gulp, but then a thought occurs to her, panic creeping up her spine as her eyes wander to the wall and through in the direction of the stairs.

"Don't be ridiculous," he says in an offended voice, serious maybe for the very first time since she came home, a lilt of hurt and defensiveness in his tone. "I checked the gate, Kate. I am not _that_ stupid. He's gotta be somewhere down here."

Something in her chest eases at that, the fact that he had enough presence of mind to be at least a bit responsible about this crazy idea of his. She lets out a breath, forces herself to look at him and not to freak out about it.

_Just a game, Kate, okay? No murderous peril. Just a children's game._

"Okay, okay. But Castle, honestly, are you _crazy_? Playing hide and seek with a toddler in a loft full of dangerous objects?"

"Hey! I didn't expect him to last this long!" he pouts. "But okay, I see your point. Who would have thought he had so much Beckett in him, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks distractedly, already on her way out of the bedroom once she's sure that the kid's not there, having swept the room for all the possible hide-outs for a small giggling body.

"Well, stubborn, smart, resourceful _and_ clever," he lists as he follows her out right on her heels. "I should have known he just wouldn't quit after a while." He sighs.

"Don't bother to charm me here, Rick. I'm still gonna kill you." She warns in a deadly tone. "Where exactly did you already search for him?" she asks then, barely suppressing her anger, pointedly not looking at him or she might say something she might later regret. Find the baby first, tell off her stupid jerk of a husband later.

She sweeps his study, crouches to peer under the table and then look behind the couch before she proceeds to the sitting room.

"Like...everywhere! I went behind and under furniture, looked behind curtains and peered under tables, I even tried inside the piano!"

She has to suppress the urge to roll her eyes again, tries to ignore the impending headache forming behind her eyes.

"Yes, because a barely walking toddler could climb into a piano. What a master plan," she throws back sarcastically.

"I know, right?" he calls back, throwing his hands up into the air like he can't believe it himself, and she sends him another deadly glare, causing him to shut up.

"Wait…." She abruptly stops in her tracks, causing Castle to plunge straight into her back. "Did you check the kitchen?"

"Of course I did," he sizzles angrily, his mouth right at her ear.

"Even the cupboards?"

"What would he do in the cupboards?"

"Yes, because the piano was _such_ a better theory," she throws back sarcastically.

He looks offended, but at least instead of arguing with her he immediately makes his way to the kitchen.

"Kitchen's a good place to start. Food and games, Castle, your favorite pastimes, remember? Don't forget he's your son, too," she deadpans, throwing him a smirk.

"Touché," he replies dryly, but they both know there's a fair amount of truth in there too. Food and games, yes, and...um, something their son is still waaaay too young for. By like…_decades_.

They reach the kitchen island at the same time, come to a stand in the middle of the cooking space. Still no sight of the toddler.

"Okay," says Kate, taking a deep breath and gliding her look over the kitchen, all careful and focused all of a sudden, like a cheetah looking for its prey, and Castle gets lost in the picture for a moment, until she starts to speak, surprisingly loudly considering that he stands only a couple of feet away from her.

"So I wonder…where do you think he can be, Daddy?" She throws him a wink, purses her lips before continuing in dramatic wonder. "Where is my sweet, sweet baby boy?"

They wait a couple of seconds and sure enough, there comes a little suppressed giggle from somewhere in the kitchen.

They exchange a triumphant smile before she continues. "Oh, where is he? I miss him _so_ much. If I only could cuddle him really, really tight!" Kate sing-songs and another chirping giggle rings out, louder this time as they step further into the kitchen, crouching to the ground. "I just wonder where he only hid himself," Kate goes on, signaling for Castle to stay quiet as she follows the sound of another muffled giggle; a fit of giggles really, from one of the bigger, lower cupboards. The two of them exchange knowing looks, nodding in unison before Kate crouches closer, pasting her ear to the cabinet door to identify the exact one.

"Hey Daddy," she calls, throwing a knowing smirk at Castle. "Maybe he is hiding somewhere down here, in the cabinets," she suggest loudly, now purely for the purpose of playing it up for their boy, and Castle can't help but whisper to her, "God, you are so hot when you figure things out like that."

She sends him another glare, but there's also something more dangerous in her eye at his words, a promise, whether deadly or exonerating he can't yet tell but he sure as hell is eager to find out, but instead of acting on it she turns back to the giggling cabinet and knowingly, _purposefully,_ knocks on its door only to receive another giggle from inside.

She sends Castle a satisfied, self-righteous smirk but there's also something deeper, richer and more fragile in her eyes, relief and alleviation and God, she is so hot and gorgeous he just wants to take her to bed right away. Their son seems to be perfectly fine and happy exactly where he is and can surely wait to be found for another couple of minutes, can't he?

But his wife's already opening the cupboard door and there's a happy, gurgling yelp of "Momma!" and then two tiny hands appear and immediately snake around Kate, a tiny face pressing into the crook of her neck and uh-oh.

Those two tiny hands are completely smeared with….oh no, peanut butter.

She doesn't seem to mind though, not just yet, only smiles, cuddles the boy tightly to her chest as she stands up, the baby in her arms, cradled tightly against his mother's chest.

"Hey, baby," she calls softly. "Good hide!" she praises.

The boy gurgles in happiness, a delighted squeal on his lips and a proud, mischievous glint in his eye before he falls forward again, head-butting his mother in the chest and burying his face deeply into her neck.

Not just his hands, but the boy himself is completely smeared with peanut butter, and when Castle looks into the cabinet, he can see the whole disaster, the narrow space turned into a nest. His son has managed to create himself a hidey-hole amongst the various kitchen utensils, pots and pans and cans and jars of food, and right in the middle of it all, lying on its side, rests an open, half-empty peanut butter jar. Where did the kid get it? Castle has no idea.

_Duh_.

The place is a mess and he sighs at the amount of work it will take to clean up the tight space, but he can't be even mad, not really, when A – it was kinda his idea, B – he looks over at his wife cradling their son, the two of them watching each other and smiling like there is nothing else in the world but the two of them. Something tugs at his heart deep and hard, and it takes a moment before he can take another breath.

He clears his throat and looks at Kate, finally notices her wrinkled clothes and tousled hair, the tired lines of her face. It must have been a hell of a day for her. Damn. And he made her come home to _this_.

He steps closer, raises his hands in a piece offer to take the boy from her, guilt pooling in his belly for the mess he's caused.

"Here, let me." He murmurs. "I'll quickly give him a bath while you relax on the couch or take a shower. I'll make us some dinner then, promise. It'll only take a minute."

But she doesn't move, doesn't give up the boy, buries her face into his soft, light brown hair instead.

"No, it's alright," she whispers in a gentle voice, all her previous anger and annoyance miraculously melted away. "I'll take him up, give him the bath. You stay here and clean up the mess," she deadpans, a playful glint in her eye and a saucy smirk following his disappointed grunt.

"You earned it," she points out.

"Don't I know it," he sighs, looking at the mess in the cabinet.

She barks out a laugh, closes the space between them and presses a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Come find us when you are done," she husks before turning to leave, whispering quiet secrets into their son's ear as they slowly walk up the stairs, the boy happily chirping back to her, joyous and content in her embrace.

* * *

It takes him over half an hour to clean up the mess his son has made. He had to take out all the items in the cupboard, wash them and then clean the cabinet itself and stock everything neatly back.

It's late by the time he comes up the stairs, expecting to find Kate in the nursery with their son already asleep, but the room is quiet and empty. A strip of light comes from the bathroom instead, giggling and splashing noises coming from inside.

Although a bit surprised, Castle can't suppress a soft smile before his feet carry him there.

She's sitting on the floor in front of the bathtub, still completely dressed for work, jacket and all, as she sits on her haunches. The boy is sitting in the tub, the water shallow as he happily splashes water all around him, a yellow duck and a plastic war ship – a gift from Tio Javi – in his hands and a big grin on his face as he blabbers to his mother words only he can understand just yet, chatty little thing he is. Kate just sits there, embodiment of patience itself, giving the boy her complete attention, nodding and smiling and talking back, soft and warm and lovely, actually replying to her son's nonsense noises.

He takes a moment just to look at them, to cherish and enjoy the simple moment, trying to store the feelings it creates somewhere deep in his heart for a time he might need cheering up.

"So what, Castle? Are you joining us or are you just going to stand there for the rest of the night?" There's amusement and a fair dose of smugness in her tone when he jumps at the sound of her voice.

He should have known she would sense his presence. She always does, was always good at it. He smiles, walks fully into the room, lowering himself with a wince when his knees crack as he joins her at the ground.

"Dadda!" the boy squeals, extending his tiny hands filled with toys and Castle laughs.

"Yeah, I see buddy. Lots of toys you got there!"

The boy nods happily before returning back to playing in the water, splashing around him as he hits the surface with the ship all the while making motor sounds.

Taking advantage of the momentary diversion of their son's attention, Castle brings his hand to her neck and squeezes lightly, leaves it to rest there, right at her nape.

"Tough day?" he murmurs quietly, already knowing the answer but wanting to address it anyway.

She gives a huge sigh, the weight of the world in that one exhale and she closes her eyes, leaning into him and slowly sinking into his side. She buries her head in his shoulder, nods tightly against the soft skin of his neck.

"Bad case?"

She quietly nods again but doesn't pull her head from the crook of his neck, rests there instead. They stay in silence for a moment, watching the toddler play in the water, so happy, so oblivious of the cruel and twisted world outside.

"Sometimes…"she starts after a long while, her voice hoarse. "Sometimes I feel like I don't understand the world we live in anymore, Rick. Like everything's turned on its head and nothing makes sense anymore."

He doesn't reply to that, knows exactly what she means, knows his own fair share of wicked and dark and tragic. There is not much to be said to that. So he merely brings her closer to his side, wraps both of his arms around her, pressing a soft kiss against the crown of her head as they silently continue to watch their son play in the tub, this small human being, so full of mirth and life, enjoying the and safe, happy bubble they live in.

"Is there something I can do?" he asks after a moment, feels the tiny smile touch her lips as she presses a kiss against the skin of his neck.

"You already are," she whispers and the skin where her breath caresses him ripples with goose bumps.

"You both are," she says, her voice a little stronger, a little less broken as she untangles herself from him, extends her hands towards the toddler in the tub.

"Isn't that right, Sasha? You and daddy, you both make it okay again." She lifts the boy from the tub, cradles him against her chest, still wet and slippery and butt-naked as he is, silently waiting for Castle to provide Sasha's towel.

When he finally finds it, underneaths the boy's pajamas and clothes and toys and his sleeping blanket, he holds it up ready to receive the boy from Kate as she passes him on in a well-practiced ritual. He smiles at her, wraps the boy up into the soft terry cloth, completely covering him up as he dries him, the child precariously wriggling in his hands and squealing with laughter once he drapes the towel over his head and purposefully covers his eyes, knowing the boy loves it.

The baby in one hand, Castle picks up his pajamas with the other, decides to dress to boy in the nursery instead of the bathroom. He looks at Kate and her wet, peanut butter smeared blouse, some of the creamy mess even in her hair, and he can't help but smile at her.

"Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up while I wrap this up," he suggests. "I'll put him to bed and he will fall asleep right away I am sure, he must be so tired." As if on cue, to boy's eyes start to droop, his tiny mouth shaping a little O as he yawns, and Castle throws her a victorious smile. "And then I'll come down and warm up dinner for you. That okay?"

There's the slightest trace of hesitance in her but then she silently nods, gives him a soft smile in return.

"Okay." She closes the gap between them, kisses the already falling asleep toddler on his cheek, lingering there for a moment longer before she withdraws, presses a kiss to Castle's cheek as well.

"Thank you, Rick," she whispers.

"Always," he murmurs back, watches the smile blossom across her face.

"Hurry, will you?" she asks, sending him a wink.

Oh, he will. He always will.

* * *

_A/N: This story is for the time being marked as complete, even if I am open to the possibility of returning to this universe again. For now though, it's complete the way it is._


	2. B

_A/N: I blame the song that's been constantly playing on a loop while writing this fic (A thousand years by The piano guys) and the person who made a Castle tribute vid to that song._

_And also a huge thanks to ebfiddler and her vast knowledge that I'll be sure as hell using while writing this fic.:)_

* * *

**Story: ABC**

**{B}**

_(January 2015)_

* * *

"Hey...," he whispers as he sits down in the empty chair drawn up right next to her bed.

"Hey," she whispers back, that tired yet tremendous smile lighting up her whole face, doing odd things to his chest.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, bowing forward to press a kiss against her pale forehead.

"Yeah. Just tired." Her eyes hungrily seek out the baby silently sleeping in his arms, safely tucked against his chest.

"He okay?"

It's his turn to grace her with a huge, proud smile. "Yeah. All good. Seven pounds, 20 inches, ten fingers and ten toes. And a pretty strong voice, if his first loud cry when he came to the world was anything to go by." He winks and she gives him a surprisingly proud smile, her eyes once again seeking out the baby, a tender look settling over her face. He follows her line of vision and sure enough, there he is, the tiny creature, all wrinkled up and still so fresh and pink-skinned, one tiny hand peeking out from underneath the blanket, his long nails nearly scraping his own chin.

Their boy.

Wow. It's still…yeah, well. Too much, it seems, when his eyes gradually grow blurry. Such a sappy sap. She wouldn't let him live this down if she knew, though, so thank God her eyes are still fixed on the baby. He uses the moment to quickly draw a deep, steadying breath, gulping down the choking lump in his throat, willing his old heart to settle. It feels ready to burst with emotion.

"The nurses said we should wake him soon for feeding."

As if on cue, the baby's eyes flutter open, just for a fraction of a second and only half-way though before they close shut again. Then a smacking of lips, a slow pucker and he's off sleeping again. And wow, it's probably the most incredible thing he's ever seen.

"I think someone's nearly ready to visit the milk bar," whispers Castle enthusiastically, sending Kate a wink that sure enough earns him a small, non-amused eye-roll.

She is still tired, he can see, bone-deep exhaustion heavily pinning her to the mattress. But even so, her eyes are still following his every move like a hawk, her look fixed on the tight bundle in his arms. He rises to his feet to get closer, sitting carefully onto the mattress at her hip, mindful not to jostle the baby nor her. He aware that she's still sore and aching, despite her best attempts to brush off his concerns.

It was...so much different this time. He though he was ready, but he didn't even come close in his arrogance at thinking he knew what he was up to just because he's already been through it once before. He looks at the baby now, whole and healthy and so perfect in his miniature size, then at the radiating face of his mother. God, she's been so amazing.

He stares at her, blatant and way too open about it, and sure enough her eyes fall, shy away from his intense stare, and hide behind her lashes. "Stop staring," she commands in a feeble, slightly embarrassed voice even as her cheeks stain crimson. Oh, God help him, can she be even more adorable?

And yes. He's a sap. A very happy sap, ready to be mocked about it if necessary, completely unwilling to let his utter happiness be restrained by anyone. He's waited so long for this to happen. .long. He might as well enjoy it to the fullest.

He lowers his arms, loosens the tight embrace and slightly stretches his hands so Kate can see the baby too, his rosy nose peeking from inside the standard blue blanket.

She shifts closer on the bed, presses her shoulder to his so she can have a better look, her own awe possibly bigger than his at the moment. She raises a tentative hand, carefully brushing the pad of her index finger over the baby's soft brow before letting out a huge, heavy exhale.

"I can't believe he's finally here," she lets out on a exhale, like a secret revealed, her voice so tight and full with it, her emotions barely constraint as her voice trembles along with her hand, and he can't really blame her because he is right there with her.

He looks down again, sharing this special moment with her in silence as they both stare at their son. The testament of how far they've really come, despite everything.

And when he thinks he can't hold it in anymore, when he thinks his vision is blurring a little too much again, he clears his throat, forces his eyes away from the infant to look again at his wife.

"So, congratulations," he says with a good natured-smile and a teasing voice. "You won. So it's up to you now. Damn, I was so sure it would be a girl," he adds, even pouts a little just for show, eliciting a tiny, secretive smile from her. "Care to share the name?" he adds.

To his huge surprise, she seems to hesitate, all shy of a sudden, so unlike the confident tease he gets to see most of the time. She doesn't reply right away, no teasing retort up her sleeve. She merely raises her hands towards him, a silent plea.

Duh.

"Can I have him?" she asks, a bit too timidly for Castle's liking.

"Oh, oh of course," he quickly replies, inwardly kicking himself, realizing only now what she's asking for, immediately handing over the baby. She hasn't had the chance to hold him yet, not outside the few moments right after she gave birth to him. Of course she wants to hold him now.

She takes the bundle carefully, the slightest tremor in her hands, but when she cradles the boy against her chest, her hold is strong. Protective.

Her eyes caress the child sleeping in her arms adoringly, so much love and awe in a single look and Castle realizes with amusement she's already a goner.

And he is too, for the both of them. It hits him hard and only now what she meant, that it was incredible that their son was finally here, all those months the two of them have eagerly waited for him to arrive finally paying off. Somehow, the two of them became three and yes, it's somehow really hard to comprehend.

"Sasha," she says into the silence after a moment, her eyes still caressing the baby lovingly. "I want to name him Sasha."

They made a bet, one she won, to her great amusement. The bottom line: if they had a boy, she'd be the one to pick the name. If they had a girl, it would be his call.

He looks at her now, pondering her words, then the baby.

"Sasha," he repeats, turns it over at his tongue, tasting it, trying it out. He extends his hand, strokes one thick finger over the baby's cheek. The boy stirs but doesn't wake, merely smacks his lips again. They both smile in unison.

"Looks like he likes it," he whispers.

"And you?" she asks suddenly, breathlessly, something shy and unsure in her eyes, almost vulnerable, a strange kind of longing. "Do _you_ like it?"

He smiles, his eyes flicking between his wife and his newborn son, unable to decide whom to watch first.

"It's a nice name," he says slowly, carefully. "If you don't mind that we'll probably get asked a lot why we gave him a Russian name," he adds as an afterthought, smiling at her again, his eyes crinkling. "But it's a nice name. I really like it."

Her forehead creases as she seems to be pondering something, a familiar line deepening between her eyes as she narrows them at him in thought, and he wonders what that means, that deep line, until it finally hits him that it's discontent and maybe even a little impatience. The sudden change in her mood takes him by surprise.

"It's a unisex name, right?" he threads carefully, willing the conversation to move along, thinking that he probably didn't give his wife enough credit, enough enthusiasm and support for the name she's picked obviously so very carefully for their son. "So that's good too. I kinda like when you don't know right away whether the bearer of a name is a boy or a girl. It's…intriguing. Plus," he plows on, the deepening crease in her forehead making him suddenly nervous, wondering what it is he's so obviously doing wrong, "your great-grandparents were originally from Russia, right? So that's a good reason too. And hey, the Obamas have a daughter called Sasha too, though I guess this has nothing to do with them, right? Oh, and Sasha was also the name of the alleged Soviet spy in the CIA during Cold war," he says with a clever smile, but nothing seems to help when she's still giving him this confused, even slightly disappointed look now which makes his stomach drop.

"Yeah, I guess," she finally replies, her voice quiet, contemplative, as if she has a hard time to follow his train of thought, and maybe she has, God, he's talking such complete rubbish, isn't he?

"But that's not…that's not why I picked it," she says at last.

"Why…why did you pick it then?" he asks quietly, feeling inadequate and slightly put out by the seriousness in her eyes as they once again fall on the sleeping baby cradled in her arms. She takes a moment, presses a lasting kiss to the baby's forehead, then another one just because she can, before she looks back at Castle, something deep and rich in her eyes.

"You're right. Sasha is a Russian name. But it's also a nickname. A short version for Alexander. That's what I really want to name him. Sasha as short for Alexander."

The intense look in her eyes leaves no room to doubt her intent and his mouth falls open as he regards her silently, slightly shocked. Honest to God, he didn't make the connection at first. He forces his mouth to close, opens it again to force out a reply despite being caught so off-guard.

"I-" he stutters, tries again. "Kate, are you sure this is what you want?"

Her cheeks stain a little, but the look in her eyes is resolute, and he can tell that this is not some hormone-induced spur-of-the-moment decision. She's given this a lot of thought. Her eyes fall back at the baby, one of her hands running slow circles over his back, and a slow smile blossoms across her face.

"Yes. Yes, I'm sure."

"I…_why_?" he asks incredulously, blurting the only stupid question to come to his mind, but her smile merely grows before she unglues her eyes from the baby to look him directly in the eye.

"Because you are his father. And I want him to carry something of you," she says evenly, so assured it takes his breath away. There's something, like a distant memory, clouding over her eyes, stealing over her features. "Because you saved my life, Castle. In so many ways," she whispers at last, her eyes soft and dark and shiny.

He doesn't fully understand what she's saying, dumb-witted as he still is with the shock of her decision, but if the heavy pounding of his heart in his chest is anything to go by, he's already completely taken with the idea, with the idea of her very own decision to brand their child so openly, so decidedly, as his.

They've already agreed the baby would carry his surname. He thought it more than enough at that time, didn't really - not in his wild dreams - hope for anything else, knowing his wife's free spirit, her unwillingness and sometimes just sheer stubbornness to bend to the rules of society or traditional thinking. So it was truly more than enough for him to know the baby would be a Castle. But hearing her say she wants to call their son after him, after his second _given_ name —the name he got from his mother at birth and not a name he chose himself later in life at a time when he was cocky and a bit at a loss, searching for his own identity—it carries more meaning that he can tell her, not in words anyway. And that's saying something, since using words is literally his profession. He doesn't know what to say at the moment in return though, not for a long moment, merely gazes at her growing more and more self-conscious.

"But if you rather don't, if it's too much -" she murmurs, biting her lip as her eyes shy away.

"No! No, no, no. Kate," he hastens, takes her hand and lowers his head to catch her eye. "I…I just don't know what to say to that right now, okay? Just…I am," he ponders for a moment, takes a deep breath willing himself not to screw this up, "I'm touched. Truly. And kinda struck speechless, to be honest. Without words. For once," he adds on a quip, a teasing spark in his eye. And he is, oh how he really is. Because who would have thought that Kate Beckett was the sentimental one when it comes to picking out baby names?

"So you like it?" she asks again, more hopeful this time, despite the hint of uneasiness in her tone, which breaks his heart. Instead of an answer, he puts his arms around her, hugging her close to him, his mouth brushing the top of her head before he presses his cheek to her crown.

"I love it, Kate. It makes me…" he lets out a deep sigh. "Jeez, it's really frustrating now to know how to express myself," he grumbles, pleased to hear her answering chuckle before he wills himself to continue, once again serious. "I am afraid I'll never be able to adequately tell you what it means to me that you chose to name our child after me," he tells her earnestly, feels an answering smile bloom across her face.

"Of course," he adds as an afterthought, "not many people know that's my given name."

"I know," she replies in a gentle tone, her lips stretching into a clever smile. "That's why I think it's so perfect. It'll be something just for us," she ends on a whisper, raising her head to close the space between them, pressing her warm, slightly dry and chapped lips against his in a gentle lasting kiss.

"On another note, how could I deny you anything?" he muses huskily after they break apart, still staying close. "After what you just went through, you could decide to name him Rocky, or Rocket or some other crazy name and I wouldn't dare to oppose. Or, wait, Rocket actually does sound like a pretty awesome name, doesn't it?" He grins enthusiastically, his smile merely growing at the trademark eye-roll of hers, one of her hands coming to slap his chest.

"You think Alexis won't mind either?" asks Kate, chewing on the corner of her mouth.

"Alexis? Why?"

"I only mean the fact that their names are going to sound so similar, you know. I just thought… that it could be something for the two of them too, as siblings, something to have in common, to connect as a family."

And okay, what did this woman do with his badass wife? Surely, the hormones can't be to blame for all of this, but he won't look the gift horse in the mouth, not when his wife is so considerate of his daughter's feelings. "I don't want her to feel like she doesn't belong to the family, now that we have our own," Kate says contemplatively, caressing the baby's brow. "I know you guys talked about that, but I just," she shrugs, "I want them to have a good relationship. But if you think it's a stupid idea -" she starts again to doubt her choice.

"I'm sure Alexis will be touched by the gesture," he says quickly, the sudden lump in his throat preventing him from saying anything further and yes, it does get to him, the fact that Kate considered his daughter's feelings too, despite that Alexis is, sadly, all grown up and independent now, living her own life.

He takes a moment, uses the silence to ponder it for a second, thinking back to all those times he held his daughter's tiny hand, read her a story until she fell asleep, looked under her bed for monsters, all those times when they explored the various museums and libraries together. He's got to do it now again, with his son and Kate, too. Not a single child and parent anymore but a family of three, a whole new experience. A different chapter in his life.

"Hey," Kate nudges his shoulder, seeking out his eyes. "You okay? You look a little misty-eyed there, Castle," she teases with a knowing but kind smile.

He blinks slowly, his mind returning back to the present, to the hospital room and the baby being cradled in Kate's arms.

"Yeah," he answers, still slightly dazed and more than a little overwhelmed. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good," she says, her voice a bit strained. "Because you need to take him. I'm afraid I will fall asleep any second now and drop him." She's wearing a tired, slightly rueful smile as she hands the baby back to him.

"Oh! Oh, of course."

He takes the baby carefully from her, the little guy still quiet and asleep. "You should sleep too, Kate," he says, pressing a kiss against her forehead. "Get as much rest as you can before the little one here wakes up and demands your attention." He smiles down at the baby, can't help but trace the tiny features, already looking for similarities, features they might have in common.

"Right, Sasha?" he whispers. "We should let mommy sleep," he says, cradling the baby, rocking a little, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

He looks at Kate, sagged against the cushions, her lids already dropping, tiredness weighing her down, but a happy smile stretching her face all the same. He reaches out a hand, squeezes her thigh gently. "Sleep, Kate."

She smiles, her eyes already closed. He gets up from the bed and walks away so she can get her well-deserved rest, crosses the room over to the window to look out into the dark, snowy night.

"Hey Castle."

His head turns back to look her, surprised she isn't asleep yet, but sure enough, her eyes are open, tired but with a wicked glint in then.

"Next time I wake up, I want to hear his middle name. I haven't forgotten."

He only smiles at her, remembering their agreement. She got to give the first name, he gets to give the middle one. And no, he hasn't forgotten. He nods to her, but her eyes have already fallen shut again, her breathing evening out.

There was never a single doubt in his mind what second name their son would get, although he has a feeling Kate will need some persuading on that one. Yet now that he knows his son's first name, Castle thinks with a grin, he might have some leverage. After naming the kid after him, there's no chance in hell he's going to let her veto his second name choice.

He looks down into the baby's sleeping face, kisses the light, soft, downy hair, smelling baby and Kate and innocence.

"Welcome to the family, Sasha Beckett Castle."

* * *

_So I may be adding to this story after all, one chapter at a time. And despite marking it as complete, it stays an open project for me._


	3. C

_A/N: Thank you _**_ebfiddler_**_ for your great thoughts and the always, sadly, so much needed beta work._

_Still for **chezchuckles**, who is once again gracing us with a wonderful Advent special along with tons of other wonderful stories._

* * *

**Story: ABC**

**{C}**

_(February 2015)_

* * *

She's looking into the mirror at her reflection, a dissatisfactory frown settling over her features. Her hair is matted, eyes puffy from lack of sleep, dark circles running under her eyes.

She is dead tired standing on her feet and really, _really_ not in the mood for any social visits.

But she already said yes, couldn't shut out their friends forever, hiding away in the loft for weeks along with her husband and newborn, a safe comfortable haven created just for the three of them as they were slowly getting to know each other, gradually falling into a familiar rhythm.

And if it were up to her, she would keep it that way as long as possible. Castle's been so excited though, so eager to show off their son. He's been so looking forward to playing the part of the proud daddy for their friends, but had to postpone it all as she killed the mood with her refusal to see anybody, anybody at all, for the first few weeks of Sasha's life.

"Only for a couple of weeks, just until we are settled first," she soothed upon seeing his face fall before he quickly masked his disappointment with a wave of his hand and a charming smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Of course. Whatever you need, Kate," he said and something sharp tugged at her heart, something that felt strongly like guilt. He never did know how to say no to her. Maybe it was time for him to learn that. It would certainly be healthier for them, more balanced, if he could say no to her, stomp his feet and demand something back from her. And maybe, the voice of her conscience was whispering in the back of her mind, maybe she should be the one to point it out, encourage it, but not this time. Just not this time.

So Castle waited, surprisingly patiently, along with all of their friends. And though she still isn't prepared, still feels like hiding away is the best way to go, she recognizes the irrationality of her thinking, the selfish streak in her reasoning.

She gives her reflection one more appraising look, can't help but let out a frustrated sigh. She just…doesn't look like herself. She is…formless, so clumsy recently, with the lack of rest and remaining pregnancy fat, tired from the sleepless nights and way too little coffee, her breasts still full and tender to the touch from feeding their little vampire 24/7.

But at least she's had the chance to take a bath, was able to blow-dry her hair and put on some light make-up along with some presentable clothes; more than the baggy, shapeless shirts that constantly fall off one of her shoulders – a thing that Castle, not so subtly, loves – or thin-worn leggings that seem to be glued to her frame these days.

So okay. Maybe it'll be just okay. An hour. Two. Tops.

She strains her ears, listens carefully for any sound, but the baby's still quiet, must have fallen asleep again. He's in the next room, resting in his crib, freshly fed and ready for his visitors, his cute onesie along with a matching cap already on – Castle's pick. It was her only real task today, to get the baby ready along with herself while Rick promised to arrange everything else.

And maybe Castle is right, she thinks as she looks into the mirror one more time. Maybe getting this done and over with now is a good thing, just a quick rip of the band-aid. It may even win them some more time for themselves after they satisfy the need of their curious friends.

She runs the brush self-consciously over her hair once more, stalls for a second longer before giving herself a final – this time really final – look in the mirror. Nothing terrific to see, but presentable.

Well, okay.

It will have to do.

She walks out of the bathroom, switches off the lights before making her way to the nursery, the dark wooden crib in the corner of the room.

It is as she thought, the baby's peacefully asleep. His tiny lips are puckered, fingers pulled into fists and tightly pressed to his chest.

Her little man.

She blames the hormones when she can't stop the gentle smile from stretching across her face, her hands reaching into the crib, so natural and eager.

"Hey buddy," she whispers when her fingers come to cradle the side of his face, "time to wake up."

Her thumb runs across his forehead, soothingly, knowing her touch won't really wake him, or her words. He's a heavy sleeper, her son, just like his father. Neither the TV nor the vacuum cleaner—and Kate doubts even a chain saw—would be able to wake him once asleep. She tries though, runs her fingers down his tiny body, caressing his tummy through the soft onesie, then down his chubby legs, one at a time. Only six weeks old, he's already grown so much.

He smacks his lips but doesn't really wake and she smiles again, falling for the tiny being all over again.

This is what she loves best; these quiet, peaceful moments with just the two – or three – of them, the closest family together, still so fresh and new and struggling to get to know each other, to find a way to make it work.

And if it were up to her, it would stay exactly this way for a little longer. It's been Castle's idea, this little gathering of friends, something she's been putting off for weeks now, but Kate knows she isn't being fair by hiding him, by wanting to keep him all to herself for so long. She knows that eventually the day would come where she would have to share him with the world. She just hoped she could be more prepared, and also in a better shape to actually enjoy it.

With a heavy sigh, she puts her arms around and under the baby, lifts him out of the crib, her fingers gently supporting the neck and head, pulling him tightly towards her chest and pressing a kiss against the soft fuzz of light hair, inhaling his distinctive baby smell.

Their alone time is up, she can already hear from the hallway, everybody must be already here, their family and friends, all just waiting eagerly to take the baby from her, to coo over him and cuddle him and she will have to sit there and smile and just let them have their way with him, her baby son.

Gosh, she's pathetic.

_Okay, enough, Kate. Get a grip and let's get this over with. It's not like you're giving him up for adoption. It's just your friends, your _family_, coming for a visit to meet him._

She grabs an extra baby blanket from the bassinet, throws it over her other shoulder, the baby still securely tucked against her with the other hand. Taking one more breath, she resolutely walks out of the nursery towards the stairs.

* * *

From the top she can see that everybody's already there, sitting in the living room or scattered around the kitchen. They all talk quietly, comfortably, and she has a sudden surge of shame that she forced them all to wait so long to meet her son, avoided this inevitable thing for so long, hid away instead of properly introducing her son the people who matter the most.

She secures the still sleeping baby against her chest with one arm, her other hand lightly on the banister to steady herself as she slowly starts to descend the stairs.

They are all there; Martha and Alexis, Ryan with Jenny and Esposito and Lanie, all sitting on the dark leather sofa and surrounding armchairs, quietly talking to each other, an occasional soft laughter ringing through the room. Her eyes wander further to the left and to the kitchen where her father is currently helping her husband prepare the canapés.

The picture makes her stop in her tracks, capture the moment before anybody has noticed her presence, before she doesn't yet have to actively engage in the social activities. A little private moment just for her.

Rick's wearing a crisp dark blue shirt, his hair neatly cut and combed back, looking as handsome as ever. Seriously, it's more than a little irksome and annoying these days, for she has no idea whatsoever how he does it, how in the world he can stay so dashing, so full of energy and joy after weeks of spending sleepless nights with a newborn. He takes at least as much of a share in the nightly interruptions as she does and yet he somehow manages to do it all, and still stay his energetic, social, handsome self, so lively and entertaining, so completely different from…herself.

The grouchy mama-bear, he likes to needle her, but there's a certain amount of truth in there, if she's honest. She hasn't been the nicest person to hang around lately, moody and tired, hormonal and a bit unhinged on occasion. So yes, she probably owes him this, the opportunity to spend some time with other people but just her surly self. It hasn't been just that, oh no, but yeah, she's not the perfect storybook mom.

It doesn't make her particularly proud, but it's just the way she is. She loves her son, more than she thought possible, but that doesn't mean that she has to ooh and aah over each burp and each poop.

That's part of the reason why she's been so apprehensive about this idea in the first place, to do this sort of welcoming party for their friends. The idea of so many people suddenly intruding on their quiet intimate bubble, even if it's their friends and family, makes her stomach churn with irrational nervousness.

But he's been _so_ good, sweet and patient with her and he really wasn't asking all that much of her, just a single afternoon. Their friends were already asking about them, her, the baby, and on top of it, she let _him _deal with all the calls and demands and questions. So yes. She owes him. Big time.

She knew the day would eventually come when he convinced her, but she has to admit, the way he put it as they were lying in bed together a week ago, all three of them, it did sound appealing as he painted the picture. Just a few friends and closest family for dinner, an hour or two, tops, to stop pestering them about visiting, dealing with all of them in one swoop.

Seeing her friends and family now, quiet and respectful and expectant yet patient, it sends a warm surge through her chest, making her question her motives for being so damn secretive about her new life, about their new life as a family. It's their _family_. They won't judge.

Her eyes fall again to the back of Castle's head, her husband, and suddenly the head in question turns and she could swear he knew, _knew_, that she was standing there and watching him. His face stretches into that huge smile, his eyes twinkling merrily as they fall on them both and Kate has to fight the urge to bite her lip and lower her gaze.

_Damn that man._

"And there they are," Castle beams proudly, his warm smile crinkling his eyes, deepening the lines around his eyes.

Everybody in the loft suddenly turns to her, making her extremely self-conscious as she walks down the rest of the stairs, feels extremely ridiculous as she tries not to trip over her own damn feet. Stupid stairs and stupid Castle, announcing her arrival as if she were some kind of royalty coming down to greet the common men.

Lanie jumps up and quickly crosses the room to approach her first, obviously can't help but give a small squeal of delight when her eyes fall upon the baby in Kate's arms before she looks back at her friend, that mischievous _I-told-you-_so and _finally_ smile stretching across her face, but also something more tender, richer. Generosity and happiness for her friend's happiness shines in Lanie's eyes and before she knows what she's doing, Kate's offering the baby to her, laying Sasha in Lanie's surprised arms.

It's a blur after that. There's food, there's laughter and a lot of hugs and the next time Kate consciously takes in her surroundings, she finds herself sitting on the couch squeezed between Martha and Lanie, only half-listening to some story Martha's narrating with her arms flying around her, bracelets tinkling as she gesticulates effusively, while her eyes subconsciously follow Sasha, still unbelievably mostly asleep, even while being passed around.

It's nice, albeit a little tiresome for her, trying to be social and attentive to her guests after six weeks of the solitude of the loft filled only with mostly quiet communication with just her child and husband. But she's trying, so she pushes her fatigue aside, and smiles encouragingly at Alexis as she tentatively takes her brother into her slightly shaky arms.

From the corner of her eye she can see Castle, standing frozen at the side of the room with a tray of appetizers in his hand, looking at his daughter as she cradles her baby brother, his eyes big and suspiciously shiny, so full of emotion as he watches his children interact and her heart squeezes tightly in her chest. Maybe she should have…Sooner. She should have sooner—

But then he blinks and diverts his eyes to her, sends her this huge, tremendous smile and she knows that there is no room for _maybes_ or_ should-haves_ today. It's good as it is, here and now, their friends, their family, happy and safe and having fun and enjoying the new addition to their group. She throws him a soft smile, adds a tiny wink just for good measure before pointing with her head and raised eyebrows to the tray still cradled in his hands.

It seems to do the trick and he finally unfreezes, walks around the couch and puts the food down onto the table, immediately running back for more. She wants to tell him no, tell him that it's okay and there's no need to fuss anymore, everybody content and happy, but before she can make up her mind to go and tell him in the kitchen, her dad catches her attention, telling her something and she has to pay attention again.

* * *

The baby finally wakes about an hour later, his small lungs expanding to let out a pitiful whine and then another, gasping for breath and then crying out loud for real, making all of their guests laugh.

Kate excuses herself from her conversation with Jenny, crosses the room and offers to take the baby from a rather unwilling Esposito who suddenly claims to be good with kids_—just give him a couple of minutes and he will have the baby settled in no time. _It takes Kate explaining, with more than a little smirk, that what the baby wants right now is something that Espo unfortunately can't provide, making the man blush and immediately give up the baby, the rest of the room chortling with laughter.

She takes Sasha upstairs for feeding, knowing she can count on Castle to animate their guests until she's back, but when she comes down some 20 minutes later, she finds them all scattered around the entryway, putting on their shoes and scarves, leaving.

Her eyes unsuccessfully try to seek out Castle as she hurriedly walks down the stairs with a once again sleepy Sasha in her arms.

"You guys already leaving?" she asks and their heads turn to her, smiles still playing on their lips.

"Yeah. We've been here longer than we intended anyway," says Lanie with a soft smile.

"Oh," Kate replies dully, shocked to feel a large dose of disappointment. Her eyes fall to the clock in the kitchen and wow, it's already nearing eight in the evening. That flew by!

"Oh, okay," she replies again. "I hope you guys didn't plan on sneaking out without a goodbye though." She smiles good-naturedly.

"Nah, don't worry. We were just waiting for you. Or Castle for that matter," says Espo, pointedly looking around as he puts on his cap before proceeding with his gloves.

"Speaking of which," says Kate curiously, "where exactly is he?" She shoots a curious look at the group and it's Alexis who replies.

"Actually, I don't know. He went to his office to get a book for me about ten minutes ago but he never made it back," the girl says with a slight frown creasing her forehead, but then she just shrugs. "Probably got an idea and decided to hide away to type it quickly into his laptop. So we decided to take the cue that it was time to get up and go."

"Yeah," agrees Kate half-consciously, her mind still on her absent husband before returning her attention back to their guests. She will worry about Castle and his rather rude absence later; right now she has to say goodbye to half a dozen people.

They slowly file out, each one stopping by to give her a hug, a kiss on the cheek, a last comment, mostly about how adorable Sasha is and how much they are all looking forward to meeting again. Kate takes all their compliments with a casual wave of her free hand or an occasional roll of her eyes, but yeah, okay, it does get to her what they have to say about Sasha, their words melting her a little on the inside, her eyes caressing her son lovingly now and then. Her dad is the last one to leave, pressing a kiss against her cheek and caressing Sasha's head one more time, his thumb smoothing out his soft hair.

"You did well, Katie," he praises. "You are a wonderful mom."

She bows her head, lets her hair fall down in curtain to hide the sudden fire in her cheeks, the sting in her eyes, before bringing her dad close for another lasting hug.

"Thanks for coming, dad."

"Thanks for having me," he replies against the side of her head.

"Always, dad," she replies and realizes as she says it how she truly means it. "Anytime you want to see your grandson, or us, just drop by, okay? No need for a prior announcement," she adds, slightly flustered.

He just nods, a rare, radiant smile she sees more often these days stretching her dad's lips. With a final look at the baby in her arms, he walks out, closes the door behind him.

It's suddenly so…quiet in the loft. She stands in the hallway, slowly turns around to observe the empty space where only minutes ago there was a lively family gathering. Her eyes travel to the living room and Kate's surprised to notice there are no dishes or glasses on the table anymore. Walking into the kitchen, she sees with a tender surge to the heart that their family and friends have already moved all of the dishes and glasses to the kitchen, saving their hosts the time and trouble for doing it themselves.

She quickly puts away the remaining food and wine into the fridge so they won't go sour, contemplating putting the sleeping Sasha in his portable baby crib they have installed downstairs so she can get some of the dishes done right away. But in the end, with the baby still in her arms, she chooses to go look for her husband first, curious and a little irked as to what he might be up to, that had their guests practically having to walk themselves out.

She finds him on the couch in his study, fast asleep. He's stretched on his belly, one of his hands and feet uncomfortably hanging down from the couch, an open book lying on the ground next to his curled fingers, probably the one Alexis was asking for. His face is mashed into the dark leather, mouth puckered and slightly agape, a small puddle of drool coming out on one side and his dark bangs falling over his eyes and she has to bite her lip in order not to bark out a laugh at the similarities between her husband and son's sleeping habits.

She needn't have bothered though, for Castle's dead to the world, doesn't even stir when Sasha whimpers in her arms as she rearranges him in order to crouch down to her sleeping husband, with a sudden vulnerability to her she rarely allows herself to feel. She observes her sleeping man for a moment before she runs her fingers through his hair, brushing the bangs away from his face and caressing his ear lovingly. She feels a little ashamed. He must have been so tired, so completely drained, what with catering the whole party tonight, taking all the responsibility and making preparations and taking care of their guests that he didn't even notice how he fell asleep in his study—while she thought he was just being rude.

Wow. Rick Castle falling asleep in the middle of a dinner party. That must be a first.

Cradling the baby in the crook of one arm, she pulls closer and presses a kiss to Castle's temple, scraping her short fingernails over his skull.

"Rick, honey," she whispers, but he doesn't even stir. "Come to bed," she murmurs, pressing another kiss to his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, his eyebrow. Still no reaction, so she nudges his shoulder a little harder, squeezes, then shakes ever so slightly. "Castle," she murmurs, "the party's over. Wake up and come to bed before Sasha wakes again."

His eyes finally open, flicker to life yet take their time to focus on her. He's so groggy it takes him nearly a minute until he finally comes around enough to comprehend her, truly see her, and she waits him out, gently running her fingers through his hair in encouragement as he gains consciousness.

"Party?" he mumbles. "Oh God, the party," he groans, jumping and quickly sitting up, clumsy and uncoordinated as he is. "Alexis. Book," he jumbles.

"The party's over," Kate's soothes with a gentle smile, steadying him with a firm press of her hand against his shoulder.

"Wha-aat?" he cries in disbelief. "How- damn! I'm sorry Kate," he moans, pressing his face into his hands, firmly rubbing at his lids to fully wake. "I promised I would take care of everything-"

"And so you did," she replies firmly, steadily. "I had fun, our guests had fun, the party was a blast and you were a wonderful host. A great husband. Now it's time for bed."

He raises his head, observes her for a moment. "You had fun?" he asks honestly, reassuring himself and not fishing for compliments for once, and a heavy fist clenches around her heart.

"Of course I did. It was wonderful," she nods, pressing a short, affirming kiss against his lips. "Now come to bed, Rick," she murmurs, curling her hand against his upper arm, helping him stand.

"Little man good?" he asks, still slightly out of it, his shifted vertigo causing him to press against her. She smiles, brings a hand around his middle to steady him as they make their way out of the office.

"Yeah, Sasha's good. We're good."

* * *

_I wish you all__ a most festive season. May the magic find you where you most need it._


End file.
